


I Will Go

by virgocas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Heaven, Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 22:37:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2042889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virgocas/pseuds/virgocas





	I Will Go

Several thousand feet below, Castiel’s superiors are congregated amongst the clouds, discussing the fate of one human. Everyone is abuzz, carrying on the news from angel to angel. It is a rarity for seraphim to be this invested in the futures of minuscule, simplistic life forms. But this one is special. Castiel knows. Castiel has heard of this soul. Just snippets of conversations between others; he himself is kept largely in the dark about these things. And usually he is fine with that. What would he want with humans? They are admittedly fascinating, and Castiel would spend millennia observing them were he permitted. Castiel is good at obeying. He prides himself on his ability to follow orders without a solitary or selfish thought. He is good at that.

At the sound of Dean Winchester’s name, however, something akin to curiosity stirs in his being. Angels cannot be inquisitive, not really. Castiel knows that. He has been told time and again that such emotions are not within angelic capacity. And yet, Castiel finds himself eavesdropping on the convocation. He has grown adept in the art of going unnoticed, not that anyone would truly care were he to be discovered. Still, he peers down with caution, sensing others doing the same nearby. He feels a flare of comradery for his fellow snoops; apparently others experience this “curiosity,” and it is not so uncommon as he had been taught. He concentrates with great determination to hear the vague whispers of the group, grace straining slightly. He is a powerful entity, capable of great creation and destruction, but he is not often called upon, and therefore unused to exerting himself in any way.

Down in the mist, his siblings argue.

“One human life? All this fuss for one insignificant human life?” One of his brothers scoffs. Another shushes him.

“He is not insignificant, Remiel. Earth holds no hunter in comparison.”

“He has no faith.”

“You simply dislike him,” Jeremiah comments mildly, clearly disinterested.

“Leave him there. It is not our place to retrieve souls from Gehenna,” says a sister. Something within Castiel constricts, and he experiences an anaerobic equivalent to the sensation of breathlessness. He wants to soar into the gathering and howl at Colopatiron. She is an angel of liberation! She should be journeying into Hell herself to recover the soul of Dean Winchester. Another of his sisters, Nisroc, senses Castiel’s presence, which has grown less subtle as the conversation has progressed. She seems amused, however, and does not alert the others to his intrusion. He quickly steels himself, reeling his grace back in until he can just make out what is being said. 

"We have orders," Asmodel murmurs, and a few others chime in their agreement. "We have been instructed to deliver him. Not to laze around mulling it over. I propose sending Sariel. He will lead Dean Winchester’s soul from damnation." 

"Send Munkir and Nakir." Quickly, the rest begin nominating those they deem most efficient for the job. No, no, they’re all wrong. All of them. Castiel is plummeting through miles of fog before he can stop himself. It is not his place, bursting in on the conversations of higher-ranking angels uninvited. He comes to a halt in the middle of their assemblage. 

"I will go," he blares, grace blazing around him. His brothers and sisters are stunned. And doubtful. Cynical. 

"You?"

"Castiel, Angel of Solitude?"

He remains confident, despite their skeptical tones. He knows he can do this. He was meant to. No one else can. He must be the one to reconstruct Dean Winchester. 

"Yes," he responds with much conviction, "I will go." 

Nisroc chuckles, easing the tension some. “Let him.” The words strike Castiel to his core, and he feels evermore self-assured. Pride ripples from his grace, and his siblings take notice. 

"I see no issue." 

"Yes, send Castiel." 

"Let us be done with this foolish debate." 

Even as some object and continue to argue the subject, Castiel knows he will go. He knows he will be the one to fight though Hades and find Dean Winchester. He is impatient to embark.


End file.
